My Forever Transgression..(Bill Skarsgard)(Roman Godfrey)

14] Dark and Shallow

My heart chokes, collapses into millions of unfindable segments. A cure that is considered nonexistent, far, far away into oblivion, shattered with their components scattered around the face of the surface.

His voice, oh, so delicate. His face, satisfactorily formed from hairline to chin; the shaped work of a knife, working its sorcery on his jaw. And his eyes.

His eyes.
His eyes.
His eyes.
His i̶n̶n̶o̶c̶e̶n̶t̶ eyes.

"It's," Roman halts, fiddling with his ring: grey with a silver r̴̨̦͕̝. "It's difficult to let out, Anastasia."

Of course.
Of course, it is.

I look from the kitchen to the floor, holding my hands on my chin with my thumb underneath, and my index finger lined against my temple.

"I need to know every single detail you managed to leave out," I demand, pretending as if my heart doesn't hurt for him. Pretending my legs aren't weakening from anxiety. Pretending as if my inner thighs aren't aching from starvation.

But I push those intrusive thoughts away,  gazing at him intensely, begging for answers but wanting it to be all over. I have no idea what may come out of his mesmerizing, red-plumped lips?

"The institution isn't a building simply run on by my father and I, we run it along with a

His deeply lined dimples, running down his side chin.

How beautiful.

How beautiful to experience his enchantment.

He's beautiful.

"Anastasia," his long fingers curve as he traces his bottom lip. "Return to your memory and think about what I did after I served your wine."

And as he says this, I remember. I remember his hands, traveling through my back, caressing my waist. I remember his breath, claiming the spot behind my right ear, whispering sweet, pleasing utterances. I remember his two hands, spreading my legs for him to fit between me; he fits as perfectly as a key does to treasure.

But then I remember. I remember as he sucks pleasure off of my neck: biting me, carving permanent marks, two marks.

"The bite," I whisper.

How can I breathe?

"The bite--you bit me."

Constant routine of oxygen stoppage.

"It was deep and, and--completely abnormal." I look up at him.

He's lost in regret, I can tell. His eyes are glowing rays, staring, hard at the floor.

"There was blood. A lot of blood. I don't know how anyone can have ever possibly caused that upon a human. Ever."

And I know, I know, I know. I've seen the marks and I've known who caused them but I didn't think of the much blood there was and I didn't think of what he could possibly be.

It all adds up.

He said he was hidden. He said he was kept in secret and the mark. It makes sense. So much sense.

"Whatever you may be thinking, love, tell me." this time he's staring again but more with a full look. He looks innocent, vulnerable, and empathetic.

"You're not," I say in denial. "You're not what I'm thinking and I don't want to think this."

"Darling," Roman stands.

"No," and I stand as well, walking backward in the opposite direction of him. "No." my eyes, filling with tears. My lips, swelling with bitten contact. "No, please just stop. Stop talking."